Dashed
by redexted
Summary: It is Fathers' Day, and for once Gaz is forced to waste the day without Professor Membrane. A somewhat melancholy fic.


My first Invader Zim fic, so please be gentle. For all the fathers out there who wish to spend more time with their families in this stressful world.

Disclaimer: All related characters and elements are (c) Jhonen Vasquez.

**Dashed**

* * *

The Sunday seemed like any other, other than the fact that it was summer vacation. As she looked out of the window every now and then, all she saw was the groups of families, both small and large, talking and laughing amidst the gloomy atmosphere of the urban town.

The Game Slave 2 bleeped in her hands. "Game Over!" it announced proudly, almost sarcastic at her failure — once again — for trying to break her set record since last year.

Gaz put down her game and slumped down into the couch. For once, she had no one to blame for this: she had lately been extremely distracted by the outside world — the exceptional cheerfulness of everything that was beyond the window of her house. Dib was not around to bother her in any way, since he was off for the umpteenth time on a fruitless mission trying to prove to the world that Zim was an alien.

"He can go down to hell for all I care," she muttered to herself, folding her arms. "That smart ass, thinking that he can convince everyone that Zim's some _space invader_ from another galaxy? As if anyone would _care._" She fumed for a moment more. "And I'll kill him if he dares to touch my pizza and soda again."

Her voice echoed throughout the house. Then she remembered. There was something else around. _Someone_ else.

"Dad?" she called.

Professor Membrane was, as usual, in his studio. Lately, he had been working on a new invention: a machine that can enhance every human's memory, and make one recall every single minute detail from the very time of his birth.

Gaz frowned. She dropped her GS2 carelessly onto the couch, and hopped out of the house, her skull pendant dangling against her black dress.

– – –

Gaz had a hunch that the door guards liked her more than they liked Dib, as they let her in without shocking her with their tazors. "Go to the fourth floor, then the fourth door on the left, and there you'll find Professor Membrane!" one of the guards called out to her after she got her security clearance.

She half-scuttled to her destination, and pushed the door open. Giant unfamiliar machines rose from the floor to the infinite ceiling, sparking with blue electricity and buzzing with static. Hydraulic pumps compressed and inflated endlessly, and automation flashed out commands and listed out procedures and statistics on black monitors.

"Dad?" she called again.

Somehow, Gaz feels like a meek creature amidst this mass of looming metallic structures. She nervously made her away around the labyrinth of machinery, and tried to search for Professor Membrane. But just as she convinced herself that she was lost, a familiar figure appeared.

"Why, Gaz! What brought you here?" Professor Membrane laughed from behind his usual mask and goggles, pausing to gather his data files in one hand and scooping Gaz up in the other. "Where's Dib?"

"Dead," she muttered.

"Is he really . . ." His voice was muffled but it was obvious that he was distracted. "Now hurry along, Gaz. I have to rush through my work, so maybe I don't have time to—"

"Dad," Gaz cut in suddenly. "Can you just put all that crap aside and just go out, for a family outing . . . with Dib if he wants to."

"No, Gaz. As you know, the world lies in my hands as I bring mankind the most remarkable invention of all—"

"_No!_ Today is _Sunday__!_" She did not know how she could yell at her father like that, and she wriggled out of his grasp to drop onto the floor. "You shouldn't be working on Sunday!" she reasoned hotly. "Can't you just . . . take leave or something?"

The last time they really went out together as a family, she recalled, was at Bloaty's, and she never enjoyed it at all — what with Dib blabbing all the while about Zim who happened to be a few booths away, and Professor Membrane checking his watch every now and then, waiting for the time when he had to go back to his labs to do more research.

_Define family outing._

"You know I can't." Membrane turned away to stride to the other end of the room. "Everyone's busy in here, and do you know what would happen if everyone just takes leave whenever they want to? The Studios will _fall_, and how can I help the people if that happens?"

"But today is Fathers' Day," she said quietly, her head bowed to avoid his face.

Membrane merely inserted the data files into a thin slot at a computer drive, overlooking her presence temporarily. "Pardon?" he asked.

Gaz fingered her pendant uneasily. "Then, if you really have to work, can I just stay here and watch you do your stuff?"

"No, Gaz. Things can get pretty dangerous in here, and we don't have the necessary protection equipment that fits you—"

"And you think I'll be hindering you?"

Membrane turned to look at her daughter, though his eyes were still hidden behind those blue goggles of his. "Gaz," he said, in a voice that told nothing. "That's not what I meant, but this just isn't a good time for you to—"

"Fine. If you don't want me here then I'll go," she mumbled. Her small hands clenched into fists, and relaxed as she let out a deep breath. "Happy working, Dad."

– – –

The walk home was miserable. All around her, despite the summer heat, there was laughter and the sheer joy of family reunion, with the paternal figures of each family the most contented of all.

She saw a lean father in a baseball cap, holding his boy — who was wearing the same cap — by the hands, strolling with huge smiles plastered on their faces. She saw a burly father with curly hair and square glasses, carrying his daughter on his shoulders while she giggled and waved her red balloon, her pigtails bouncing with every step her father took. She saw two rickety grandparents with walking sticks, a young father, a young mother plastered in thick makeup, and a pair of wide-eyed twins in two baby carriages. One of the twins stared at Gaz and burst into slurpy peals of laughter as the family walked by.

She stared back at the child, until his family turned a bend and disappeared from her sight.

In the mall, there was a huge black and blue banner screaming "HAPPY FATHERS' DAY!" and stretched across the main entrance. At skool, there were multi-coloured posters pasted onto the brick wall outside, one of which claimed: "Give your father the best day of his life by showing him your report book!" and another which said: "Make breakfast for Dad in bed — and make sure the sheets are soiled!"

Gaz listlessly pulled off a purple poster tacked at a far corner, and tore it into thin strips. The pieces of paper blew off onto the road by a gust of dry wind, and stayed there, rustling forlornly.

She finally reached home at sunset. Dib was back at last, worn out and snoring loudly on the couch, with his trench coat and boots still on. Gaz snatched her GS2 from under his back, grabbed his suitcase that was probably brimming with new evidence for his mission, and threw it into the garbage.

Her feet brought her up the stairs and into her own room. She took her blanket by the corner and flung it across the bed. The drawing pad and all the coloured pencils that had been lying on it earlier now hit the floor in a scattered mess. Then she threw the blanket over her body and buried herself in bed, while staring at the moon that was outside her open window.

She could not explain the strange sense of emptiness that welled from deep inside her. It was something that could not be replaced by her GS2, something that could not even be compared to the annoyance that Dib's presence so often brought her. It was something distinctive, and something universal yet _individual,_ for reasons she still did not understand.

Gaz blinked to herself in the semi-darkness of her room.

Christmas had come and gone. Mothers' Day had slipped by without a word. And today — Fathers' Day — was the only day she could find an excuse to spend more time with her family, and especially her father.

But she had failed.

Somehow, she knew that even if she could convince Professor Membrane to stay at home — even if she could keep his _physical_ self here — she could not keep his mind with her as well. Somehow, she knew that it would never work out that way.

If his new invention really worked, she wondered, could she use it on its inventor himself then — to let him remember that today is Fathers' Day, that family rises high above career and even the well-being of the world, that the day should not be wasted in the studios, just like every single year before?

No.

_A machine is a machine. A human is a human. A human cannot force a machine to do things that will benefit him in any way, and vice versa. It will upset the entire balance._

Could she stay and act indifferent any longer? Could she still pretend that all that mattered in her life was her GS2, her vengeance on Dib until he finally lost it one day, and her comfort in seeing that her favourite pizza and unopened can of soda were still safe in the kitchen?

_No._

Gaz closed her eyes. The day would end soon, and nothing would be done, as always.

_Happy Fathers' Day, Dad._

_-fin-_

* * *

Many apologies if Gaz seems OOC. I don't think I really planned this fic properly, so if there are some problems with the plot please tell me. Thanks.


End file.
